#another work in progress

[annahenriart]

She’s waiting for Lex Imperalis :>

[owlcat-and-radiodeer]

Wake up, babe. New GotR story snippet just dropped.

The spider crosses one set of arms and glares down the deer. "So you think Vags is, what? Some kind of a fallen exorcist or something? Bullshit. There's a stronger chance that you and Whiskers here have been married for two decades."

The reaction to his smart-ass comment is weird as fuck: Husk stops cleaning the bar to focus completely on Alastor, while Alastor sits up a bit straighter and stares down Angel for a long, uncomfortable minute. Finally, the deer sinner shifts his attention to the bartender, giving a small nod and his smile softening slightly. This causes the cat, whose wings had gone stiff, to relax and give a small grin back.

Then Husk turns to Angel, pulling a card from seemingly out of thin air and passing it to him. "You got the day off, yeah? Got a place you should check out; you'll like it."

The spider frowns a bit and glances at the card. It a simple yet classy business card, sleek black with gold accents and lettering. "The Cat's Paw Casino?"

Husk nods. "Yeah, over in the Southern Point. Go enjoy your day off without having to deal with that boss of yours." He somehow ignores the way that Alastor literally crushes his glass in one hand, the static in the air getting loud for some reason. "Tell them that I sent you, and if you have a minute see if Crymini, Trevor, or Lawrence are available. They're always happy to help out folks I send that way."

[lr-scarecrow]

[evax3]

then we take berlin

After Petyr Baelish tragically suffocated on a gigot before he was able to poison Jon Arryn, Westeros fought in united strength against the White Walkers and build up a diplomatic relationship with Queen Daenerys in Meereen after the victory.

So, the land was at peace, the winter was over and 5 years later Theon, Robb and Arya sat together in Winterfell, and were bored to fucking death.

Fortunately, distraction seemed within reach as Theon discovered a book in Maester Luwin's library, that could maybe solve their problem. Promising the opportunity to travel back in time and experience one of the big battles again, they’d fought in the past.

But mixing the ingredients, something went wrong and instead of arriving back on the field of the second Battle of the Dawn, they found themselves in Berlin of the 21st century, still wearing their thick furs and understanding not a single word.

Putting their hopes in a certain dark-haired goldsmith from California, who kindly takes them in, they tried their best to somehow find their way back home.

[ceridwenofwales]

Next in As The Shore Calls The Waves

After some consideration and a long/inspiring/encouraging conversation with @grungyblonde, I decided to write a second chapter for As The Shore Calls The Waves. I’ll probably finish in a month when I’m free from University, but I wanted to share what I have so far. Yeah, I know... another WIP. I’m constantly asking: “Why am I this way?” Muahahaha.

It was a warm night and Moyra felt sweat streaming down her forehead. But it was not the weather making her hands tremble or her throat tighten. That night would change everything, and while she feared what lay ahead, Moyra welcomed the challenge. She was determined not to disappoint her child.

 Ivar was watching her like a hawk, and while his gaze might have represented a threat in their recent past, now Moyra sensed the worry emanating from him. The notion he was trying to be attentive to her feelings was not completely new, but she has always seen malice in his urge to please her. His motivation had always been to make her more receptive to his lust.

 The people were gathered in the square and cheered when a sheep was brought to the wooden platform erected for the sacrifices. Moyra gulped when Ivar placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

 “You don't have to do this! An exception can be made because you're with child…”

 “I must!” She cut him off and placed both hands on the armrests of the chair to rise.

 Ivar smiled, but Moyra could see he was nervous by the way the corner of his mouth twitched.

 “A quick slit on the throat will do and you don't even have to look…”

 “I lived in a farm, Ivar. It won't be the first animal I kill.” Moyra felt an odd satisfaction as Ivar gasped, looking surprised.

 “You're right!” He muttered and leaned down to kiss her forehead before she walked to the platform to perform the sacrifice.

 Ivar had explained earlier that the ritual to free her required that an animal would be sacrificed wearing the collar slaves normally wore to mark their status.

 Moyra gulped once she was close to the sheep and hoped she wouldn't faint once the blood was spilled. She might have been a farmer's daughter, but it felt like another life. Now Moyra would have to discover what she could be and for that, it was necessary to kill the slave she had never thought she would be.

 It wouldn't be the first death she would overcome. She had witnessed her brother's suffering and death, her parents' murder. Moyra could barely remember their faces and voices or the maiden she was before Ivar forced himself into her life. Moyra was growing used to loss.

[stormandsaints]

drabbles masterlist

michael robby robinavitch

jack abbot

frank langdon

dennis whitaker

[jules-van-hering]

and now I actually gotta learn how to makramee...

[fandomchaosposts]

you're not gonna believe it